Thursday, February 22, 2007

It was seven years ago yesterday that OG (the older girl, or "original gangsta," whichever you prefer) was born. (I'd have posted last night, but we were at Chuck E. Cheese's, bee-yotches, which is the only restaurant in my hell.)

Oh, darling, how we've grown together, you and I. You were my first real challenge, no? Through you, I see who I was, and who my family was and is; you're the walking phenotype of the clan of Mags. I can't tell you how sure I was, growing up, that I knew far better than my parents did how to raise a child right.

You've made me see more clearly how difficult it is to impress your will upon a human being, even a small one. But, as is true of all challenging things, the joys you bring are incomparable.

About Me

Somehow, the disturbed and twisted person I am (and have always been) has ended up to be a sickeningly happy wife, professional, and mother of two.
How can I be true to my dark, goth heart, in the face of this horrible irony?